Saturday, October 12th 2024, my oldest grandchild, Elijah Landers married the fetching Carolyn
Dysart and made her part of our family. It was a beautiful day spent with my
children, Amanda, Amy, and Anthony. I also got to see my two brothers and their fetching brides, my awesome neice Courtney, as well as a host of people
I didn't recognize. It was obvious they were the friends and acquaintences of
the two young love birds, and whose faces I wouldn't recognize tomorrow. The
past two days were a blur of preparations, cooking, hoping, and praying that
we'd all done what was necessary to send the young couple into wedded bliss with
a memorable wedding. I was thrilled to spend yesterday morning with my brothers DL, his bride Jenell, and Jeff, and his bride Liz. We guys did what guys always do at weddings, we did what we were commanded to do by the womenfolk who had a plan, and the
materials to execute said plan. We were going to transform a lowly picnic
pavillion at Table Rock State Park into a wedding chapel.
All throughout the morning we were asking my daughter Amanda where things went,
how she wanted it, and where everything was. She was an awesome force of nature
executing the desires of the two young people stepping into a life of love. I
was also so thrilled to meet up again with Peter's brother-in-law, Ron. Ron, his wife Rachel, Pete, and Amanda worked tirelessly with Glenda and I during our 2023 bucket list trip to Mackinac Island. I can't
speak highly enough of Ron, and Rachel and the easy grace they showed us. They made the trip to Mackinac Island an unforgettable experience. Here's to you,
Ron!
It was also fantastic to work hand in hand with my brother DL, and my youngest brother Jeff as we joined together to transform the pavilion into a wedding chapel! I can't tell you guys how much fun it was to be with you and to share that moment with your lovely brides. I also want to put a big shout out to my Son-in-law Peter Landers. He preached an awesome ceremony even though you could tell he was a little nervous performing the rites for his own son. He fulfilled the role of 'gopher', making numerous trips to town for emergency last minute detail stuff. Huge thumbs up to you Peter! Good job.
As with all homespun weddings, things get hectic, and things get crazy. Thankfully any craziness was only for a few brief moments. Amazingly, there were also wonderful lulls between the crazy, and hectic to converse and catch up with one another. As the day moved on, there was a question asked of me by almost every family member, as well as a few loving friends; "So, Dave, what are you doing?"
It's a fair question, and the answer was simple: "Nothing."
Now, in my family, being as there were just the three of us boys the thought of doing nothing is like saying you are an ax murderer. My Dad instilled in all three of us a well defined work ethic that had one primary rule; if you are not doing something all the time, you are useless. That thought was reinforced by my Dad's constant reminder to never bring shame to the Bragg name. He would often say; "If a man pays you a dollar you give him more than a dollars worth of work." Growing up, we boys were expected to be doing something all the time. In all fairness, our father led by example. He would work at his job six days a week, and then have a home project for Sunday after Church. I began working for my Dad and getting paid for it from the age of ten. When I turned 13, he bought me a motorcycle and I was expected to go to the corrals every morning and evening to feed the horses. When I turned 14, I was expected to ride my motorcycle to work after school, and on Saturdays. From the time I was 14, I worked alongside my father till I was 21. Resting was not an option. So, I say again,doing nothing is a difficult concept in my family. You have to be doing something. HOWEVER, when Glenda got sick I stopped working, and I dedicated every minute to being with her. After she died, I couldn't make myself do anything. Now I like it. It feels good to NOT have to do anything.
Lord knows, I've paid my dues!
When I moved to Harrison, Arkansas in 1995 after leaving the Air Force, it wasn't for a job, or opportunity, it was to be available for my Mom and Dad as they entered into the later years of their life. This wasn't noble or done with some pure purpose. Mom and Dad had helped Glenda, and I throughout our life in major ways, and I felt like I owed them that much. When we moved to Harrison, I didn't know anyone! Glenda left the job of a lifetime to move here. I was a highly trained aircraft repairman, but there were no jobs for me in my skill set. There was nothing for Glenda either, so moving here was not to get rich. By the grace of God, we eventually found good jobs, meaning, and purpose. Our children married, and gave us grandchildren to spoil. Most importantly, we found a church fellowship that welcomed us, and met our spiritual needs.
Everything went well until sometime around 2018 when my mom began to show the first symptoms of dementia. Over the next three years I spent every morning making sure she took her meds because she wouldn't take them from Dad. (She was convinced he was trying to kill her.) Dementia is a cruel killer that steals your loved ones away one memory at a time until there is nothing left of the person you knew. On October 28th, of 2021, her body gave up and her spirit went to be with the Lord. My mother and I were a lot closer than I was to my Dad, so her passing really hurt me. Actually her long bout with dementia hurt me more than anything. It was a prolonged agony to see her forget me, and worse for her to forget who she was. After Mom died, I thought Dad would fold up shop and move away to where my brothers lived in Corpus Christi because he was closer to them than he was with me. I knew they would be thrilled to have him, but he was happy with his 'little frog pond' as he referred to his house and seven acres in Harrison. So, over the next year and a half I watched as he too began to slip into dementia. Unlike Mom, his dementia was forgetting to do those things he needed to do on a daily basis. He didn't take showers every day like he used to, and he would take food out of the fridge and leave it out. It quickly became apparent that he too was losing his memory. Every morning and afternoon, I would stop by to make sure he was alive, give him his meds, and talk with him. At first, he was thrilled to hear what I'd done that day, who I'd done it for, and any news of the kids, or Glenda I would tell him.
Then he fell.
The bruises looked bad, and he'd thrown his rotator cuff out. He also had a bad knot on his head, which should have given me a clue as to what was next. It was at this point that my brother secured a company to come in and help him for four hours a day. This seemed to help for a while, but after the fall, his personality changed. He became irrational, and ill tempered. At least more so than I remembered. He accused the help of stealing, and other things, and he couldn't remember if they'd been there or not, even when there was physical proof that they'd been there. He also was starting to have small fender benders around the house with his truck. My brothers told me to take the truck from him, which I knew was not a good idea. Two weeks later, he called me in a rage and said he'd called the cops on me. He wanted his truck back. In a fit of anger, I took his truck back and didn't go see him for 2 weeks. During that two weeks I looked for assisted living facilities that would give him 24 hour care, but he wouldn't have any of it.
Everything changed in one terrifying moment in February of 2023 when I found out Glenda had Glioblastoma (brain cancer). Dad was oblivious to the situation, called me all kinds of names because I wasn't checking up on him. In defense of him, his memory, and his compassion were failing. The week of Glenda's brain surgery, he fell again and they took him to the hospital because he'd suffered a stroke. On March 22nd, just 11 days short of his 88th birthday, and 18 months after momma died, he passed away.
I'd done my job. I'd nursed both of my parents in their last days. I was there for my Mom's death, but with Glenda getting ready to go through chemo and radiation, the last thing I could do was sit at my father's side as he passed this vale. Thankfully, my brother DL and my other brother's wife Liz, came and were there with Dad when he took his last breath. He got his wish and died in his recliner at his silly frog pond.
I've already blogged about Glenda's passing, so I won't wear you out with it again. I was thrilled that she didn't pass away alone. Thankfully she passed away in my arms on September 21st of 2023, six months after Dad died. I was just so relieved that she did not go through the dementia and long term pain my parents went through.
It's now been a year and a couple of weeks since she died, and I learned one thing through everything that I've experienced over the last six years. As you are headed through the exit doors of this life, the last thing anyone talks about is their jobs, and all the work they did. It's always about the love they knew, the loved ones who brought them joy, and love they felt for them. Things, journeys, and possessions mean nothing as you approach the end. It's as if you are finally able to focus on the really important things in this life. There is nothing wrong with doing nothing.
So, now to the other most asked question from yesterday; "What are you gonna do?"
Nothing!
Like I said in my last blog, I have a couple of places on my bucket list I'd like to visit, but if I don't get there, it doesn't matter. I spent the last week before the wedding going to visit old customers who sent me condolence cards when Glenda died to let them know personally what it meant to me. I have two more people to visit and that list will be done. Like I said before I want to visit a couple of Glenda's family who live over on the far eastern edge of Arkansas. They supported me when Glenda and I got married, and I want to thank them before they pass this vale.
One of the questions that surprised me was when I was asked if I was going to start dating. I haven't thought about it. Why would I make another woman go through putting up with me? It took Glenda and I the better part of 47 years to figure each other out. I think any widow or widower if they were being honest, would tell you that the simple touch of another human being is the biggest thing they miss after their loved one has passed away, but dating just doesn't feel right to me. However, what I would like, is to meet a lady friend who would enjoy riding in my little convertible, and who would be willing to talk for hours about family, and loved ones. I'd also enjoy having someone who would like going out to eat and going on one day journeys around the area. I don't want another bride, nor do I want a lover, I just want to hear a woman's voice, listen to a woman's laughter, and see through a woman's eyes once more. I don't want to live with another woman, nor do I want to wake up next to another woman. However, I would like a home cooked meal by someone other than me. AND, if I found a woman amenable to it, I would like to feel the touch of a woman's hand in mine again. These are wants and likes, but if they don't happen, I'm happy being alone. I'm not looking, and if God wants me to have these things, he'll have to bring her to me. Like I said before, I truly miss the intimacy and ease Glenda and I shared together. I doubt I would feel comfortable with anyone else.
Alright, we're coming to the end of the blog, I think. If I were to offer advice to my grandson, and his fetching bride, it would be simply to cherish each moment with one another, to make vivid memories with one another, to make passionate love to one another, to make children with one another, and to tell those children how much you love one another so that they know that there is more to life than making money, buying things, going places, or impressing bosses. Even though I was never asked, I would tell them that they are at the beginning of a new journey, and how it ends is up to them. Life comes with it's share of problems, devastation, death, and fear whether you are married or not. Doing the laundry, cooking, cleaning house are just a part of living, whether you are married or not. None of that stuff is gender exclusive. Having each other makes those things easier to deal with.
As for me, this old fat sparrow has known love, given love, and I have love left to give. I did learn something during the build up to the ceremony that caused me to change how I view things. All through the day I found myself saying; "Glenda would have loved this." When I got home from cleaning up and packing away everything I'd taken to the wedding, it suddenly dawned on me that I'd used Glenda for a crutch. Sure she would have loved being there. Everyone else knew that! She would have eaten it up! Really what mattered was that I was loving it! It was like I was feeling guilty for being there instead of her. I loved everything about that wedding. I loved watching two little love birds set out on a new journey together. I loved the obvious joy their friends had watching the couple tie the knot. I loved the fellowship with my brothers, and their wives. I loved helping my children as they did what we'd done for them over the years. I loved it!! Suddenly I could own my feelings for my grandchildren without quantifying it through Glenda. She had the Grandma anointing in the worst way, but you know what, I love my grand-kids just as much. Darn it, I loved it, and I can't wait to help another one walk the aisle if the Lord should allow me.
As a final note: Way back in 2018 my granddaughter Eva, who was 8 at the time asked me if I would come to her wedding. At the time I didn't think I would be alive to see that moment. Glenda promised her that she would be at her wedding, and that she would make me go. This made Eva ecstatic, but Glenda didn't make it, so, I have make it, and if the Lord shall allow me to tarry long enough, that is the last thing on my bucket list. And if any of my other three grandchildren should meet the love of their life, I will go to your weddings too, and love it.
I didn't share the pictures of the bride or groom simply because it's not my place to do that. I assure you, he is extremely handsome, and that's not just because I'm his grandpa. Carolyn is drop dead gorgeous in a wholesome way, and with a beautiful spirit inside. Later, if they say it's okay, I might post some pictures on my instagram page. Then again, I may not.
